Afternoon Tea
by fanficsofclare
Summary: Sarah takes John to Harrods for Afternoon Tea but Sherlock intervenes. This is a Johnlock fic. Not smut, rated only for mild language.


Afternoon Tea

A/N: so Johnlock is my OTP so don't be shocked if I write a lot of it. This is just another Johnlock idea that came to me in a dream.  
This isn't very smutty.  
Rated for language.

* * *

Afternoon Tea.

"Sarah, I swear. If I don't kill Sherlock, I'm going to kill myself. I have had it up to here with that man!" John huffed down the phone, not bothering to cover up his voice. Sherlock was in the other room, no doubt listening. Let him hear, thought John.

"You need to get out of the house." Sarah explained. She thought for a while before suggesting 'Afternoon Tea.'

"Afternoon tea..." John ponders the idea. It's promising... Maybe he might even get to shag Sarah again if he plays the cards right. "Oh, okay. Lets do that."

They hang up and John pulls open the door, Sherlock falling in on him.

"Sherlock, I wish you wouldn't listen to my private conversations." John barks, making emphasis on the 'private'

"So, afternoon tea... Where?" Sherlock questions.

"Harrods I guess." John shrugged.

Sherlocks eyes grew wide.

"When?" Sherlock pressed.

"As soon as." John muttered, pushing past Sherlock.

"No." Sherlock shouted, before clamping his hand over his mouth.

"Sherlock, it's really none of your business." John scoffs, turning slightly to face him.

"You can't go!" Sherlock shouts after a long silence.

"And why the hell not?" John yells back. He's reddening now, getting sick of Sherlock.

"Because." Sherlock says flatly. He has no idea why he can't go without telling him the real reason.

"Piss off." John spits before yanking the door open and leaving.

Sherlock waits a few minutes before hoping in a cab.

John went to Sarah's place first. She fussed over him and said he was a saint for putting up with Sherlock. John failed to mention that Sherlock had tried to stop him, that conversation felt somehow... private.

Thankfully, Sarah lived quite close to Harrods, so they walked there, enjoying the summers day.

John didn't fully relax until they were seated at a comfortable romantic table, with a candle and flowers.  
They both brought the menus to their faces and scanned them.

"Can I take your order?" A man asked and John lowered his menu.

"You've got to be kidding me. Sherlock what are you doing here?" John whisper shouted.

"I work here!" Sherlock spat back.

"No you don't." John scoffed.

"Yes. I. Do." Sherlock said.

Sarah was watching from the corner of her eye. She lowered her menu.

"Are you two finished yet? Sherlock lovely to see you and all-" She said with disgust. "But you're interrupting our date. Please go play with someone else."

John and Sherlock broke their deadly looks from each other and turned to Sarah.

John made a silent 'o' with his mouth and Sherlock pulled a notepad from his apron.

"Can I take your order?" Sherlock asked in a controlled manor.

"You work here?" Sarah laughed.

John took a good look at Sherlock. He had the uniform, which was a lovely shade of beige with pink parts. He had a name tag, which read Sherlock.

"I think he actually works here, Sarah." John whispered to her behind a menu.

"Is this why you tried to stop me?" John asked, facing Sherlock. "You're worried I would see you working?"

"He tried to stop you from seeing me? He's insane!" Sarah yelled angrily. "I should stop you from seeing him. I bet he's jealous. He fancies you." She spoke of him as if he wasn't there.

"He doesn't fancy me." John scoffed. The table suddenly became silent. Sherlock coughed loudly.  
"Do you?" John asked, turning towards Sherlock.

"I really should be taking your orders." Sherlock said, ignoring Johns question.

"He totally like you. He's so jealous of me because I'm shagging you he's not!" Sarah said to John. Sherlock stiffened.

"You don't even work here!" She yells at Sherlock.

"Why does nobody believe me? I work here. I've worked here one shift a week for years, a long time before I had even met John." Sherlock explains.

"Why?" John asks

"I like to people watch. I learnt how to read people from this job. Hundreds of people come to Harrods everyday, sometimes thousands. You pick things up about the way someone looks or acts." Sherlock cocks his head slightly and turns to Sarah.

He blinks once and starts listing of his deductions of her.

"You're not wearing tights with your short skirt, your legs are shaved so you think you're getting lucky tonight. You like John because he's an easy shag and you enjoy being the one he runs to when I upset him. You drink more than you should but you're very careful about keeping that secret because you don't want John to find out. You're worried someone will take him away from you, me of many. You think because we spend so much time together that something is going on between use romantically or at least sexually, you'd think. Your father died when you were young leaving you just passed teenage years mother alone. You have hatred in your eyes when you look at me and only greed when you see John." Sherlock spat at her.

She stood up and started leaving before turning back to Sherlock.

"You know what I see in your eyes when you look at me? I see envy and jealousy. When you look at him, I know that look. I've had that look and it only means one thing and I know just exactly how you feel for John." Sarah whispered in a deadly tone before marching off.

John gave Sherlock a glare before running after his date.

When Sherlock came back from his shift, he found John sitting motionless on the sofa, staring blankly at the wall.  
The doctor completely ignored Sherlock as the tall man walked straight passed the sofa to his room.

After hours, Sherlock came out to check on an experiment. John was still on the sofa. He hasn't moved an inch.

"John, what are you doing?" Sherlock asked, crouching in front of him to be face to face.

"Mind palace." John muttered, flapping his arms at Sherlock to go away.

"Okay, sure. Why?" Sherlock is intrigued. He's studying John but he can't quite read him.

"Because I need to think about something." John sighed.

"What is it?" Sherlock questioned, now he was beginning to get worried. Nothing and nobody should bother his blogger.

"Sherlock just go away." John growled, pushing him backwards.  
Sherlock stood up, straightened his jacket and left through the front door.

John got up and put the kettle on. He's been thinking, thinking very hard about this. Sherlock... fancied him? Well, the idea was unimaginable. But say Sherlock did... What if Sherlock liked John more than a friend? It would bother John. Just a little. Knowing your best friend wouldn't mind seeing you naked isn't a pleases thought. Or was it...?  
John shook his head. Where has that come from?  
John had no interest in Sherlock that way. He had been looking but that didn't mean a thing. Just because Sherlock had nice legs or a nice bum doesn't mean John was gay. Just because he had one (or two) inappropriate dreams about Sherlock doesn't mean he wanted them to happen in real life.

The kettle boiling brought John from his loop of thoughts. He poured the tea and sat back down on his spot on the sofa.

Sure, Sherlock was attractive, John might even go as far to say he was handsome, but John was straight and even if Sherlock liked him, John wasn't interested, right? If Sherlock came to him now and offered sex John would say no way, without a seconds hesitation.

The door opened and Sherlock bounded over to John.

"Lets fuck."

"Oh god yes!"


End file.
